Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Andorra and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Underground Resistance to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Agent Orange. All the underground hits.
All Liaisons Dangereuses tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roxy Music record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Depeche Mode,
kango's stein massive,
the Association,
Bobby Sherman,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Pretty Things,
Blancmange,
The Monks,
Lungfish,
Graham Central Station,
Altered Images,
Buzzcocks,
Outsiders,
The United States of America,
Siglo XX,
David McCallum,
Sixth Finger,
Darondo,
Man Parrish,
Wire,
KRS-One,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Magma,
Henry Cow,
Procol Harum,
Q and Not U,
Pussy Galore,
Pet Shop Boys,
CMW,
Wasted Youth,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Kaleidoscope,
Boz Scaggs,
Goldenarms,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Gap Band,
Jeff Lynne,
The Fugs,
The Slackers,
Maurizio,
The Kinks,
the Germs,
Liliput,
The Saints,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
X-Ray Spex,
Ultimate Spinach,
James White and The Blacks,
The Offenders,
Slick Rick,
Blossom Toes,
Khruangbin,
Nik Kershaw,
Minny Pops,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Fire Engines,
JFA,
The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.